Everything
by GraceTheNerdyGirl
Summary: Castiel did everything for Dean. But now Dean is dead, or so Castiel thinks. -What happened after the season 9 finale. Destiel, but angsty. It is a oneshot. I promised myself to never write angst, but, well, oops. Mostly cannon compliant. Minor changes to the physics of Supernatural occurred to make my plot work. Nothing big. Rating for language, boy kissing, major character death.


Okay, so I just watched the season 9 finale (I know I am very late but I have not been on Tumblr or any other social media site in MONTHS in order not to have spoilers). It crushed my soul just a little bit. I wanted to write something fluffy and sweet but instead I got this. I cried writing it. It probably does not make much sense, I just bended the rules to make the plot work. To make up for the sadness, I have a cracky second chapter with an alternate ending! Yay!

This story is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. (I whipped this out in about an hour, so it is very rough, sorry.) I do not own anything but the idea, blah blah blah. You probably skipped over this anyway.

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Castiel sat under the signpost. He did not cry, but the entire world knew of his sadness. He was not dead, but so dead that life seemed impossible to contemplate. The nearly-human man had stumbled away from the empty eyes of Sam to be on his own. He knew that Sam would try to summon Crowley as soon as he left, but he did not care anymore.

Dean was dead. Metatron killed him. Castiel wanted so badly to rip the man's throat out, but he could not. Everything was for nothing. Metatron was right. Castiel had done everything for Dean. And now Dean was dead.

Dean Winchester, the man that taught an angel the power of free will. That taught an angel how to feel. The man who caught an angel when he fell. The man Castiel would never admit that he loved. Dead.

Castiel rested his head against the cool metal he was propped up against. The signs above named the roads that crossed in front of the man, but he could not read them from where he sat. Castiel ran his hands down his face, preparing to stay for a long while to mourn.

"Hey."

That voice. Castiel could not bring himself to look up. He had to be hallucinating, dreaming. Crazy with grief. There was no way that voice could be real. A groan of pure anguish escaped the trench coat-wearing man.

"Cas, just look at me. Please."

Castiel lifted his head and saw the figure of an impossible man. He sucked in air, tears pooling in his eyes and threatening to spill over. If this was an illusion, Castiel did not want it to end. It might be the only way he saw his hunter again. It seemed too real to be true.

"Dean..." the man breathed. He looked up into the other's eyes.

"Hey, Cas. It's me. I am, uh, alive," Dean looked away, an emotion akin to shame covering his face. Castiel stood so he could see the man's face more clearly. He looked troubled, but Castiel figured that being raised from the dead might have had something to do with it. Dean had the blade tucked into the waistband of his pants.

"Dean, did Crowley do this? Did Sam make a deal or-" Castiel's questioning was stopped by Dean's confused gaze. Castiel wanted to keep talking so he would not do something rash, but the hunter beat him to it.

"Sam didn't make a deal. Crowley, well, I want to kill that son of a bitch, but he didn't do this. I forgot that without more of your angel mojo you wouldn't be able to tell," the man's face was lined with concern. Shame rested in the corners of his eyes. Sadness and anger boiled bellow the surface like a corked geyser.

"I would not be able to tell what, Dean?" Castiel was concerned.

"The Mark of Cain... If you have it and die it- Goddammit. It... well," Dean looked down for a moment and then met Castiel's eyes, "I am so sorry, Cas. It did this."

Dean blinked his eyes and they flashed to black. Castiel staggered backward and hit against the signpost. The signpost of the crossroad he was standing in. With a demon. Dean was a demon.

"Dean-" Castiel choked out. This could not be happening. Being a demon was not something you could just cure. It was not something you could fix. Dean. Castiel felt his world collapsing in on itself all over again. It was worse than any other time before. Dean was a demon and someone would come along and kill him. It was inevitable. And there was nothing Castiel could do to protect his hunter now.

"Cas, I didn't know this would happen. I don't know what to do. I don't have any idea. I need you, Cas. I can't go to Sam right now. I know I should. I need someone to gank me, but the Mark... I think I might kill him if he tries. I cannot hurt him, Cas. Not like this."

Castiel wanted to scream. Dean did not want to hurt Sam like that? He did not want Sam to kill him or see him as a demon? What about Castiel? Did he even think? Did he even know what this was doing to the fallen angel?

"Dean, I cannot help you. I do not have enough Grace left to stop you. I could not even tell you were a... demon," Castiel choked on the last word. The idea was still too terrible to comprehend, the word association still a bad taste in his mouth.

"Can you at least call one of your angel buddies down here to kill me? Something?"

"You know the lore about the Mark's power. I doubt that I could do anything even with my full strength. I do not want any of my brothers or sisters to die by your hand."

"Then... I'm stuck like this? I can't. I just want to be human, Cas. All I ever wanted was to die human."

Something cracked in Castiel's heart. Not breaking, his heart was already a mangled mess of ruin. The feeling could only be described as something like a jar cracking. Like there was a small portion of Castiel's soul that held on to his purity and love. A part that nothing had been able to break: not his fall, not the Apocalypse, not the Leviathans, not Purgatory, not losing Dean. This was a part of Castiel that endured beyond reason. The part of himself that made Castiel feel alive. And that fragile container cracked, leaking something beyond words into the fallen angel's chest. Dean so broken, so without hope, so... gone. There were truly no words to communicate the feeling. Dean only ever wanted to be normal. To die normal. To die human. He did not want to leave Sam, or to make Sam suffer, so he came to Castiel. That was the moment that Castiel knew what he had to do for his hunter. Everything, all over again.

"Dean, I am almost human now. I am more human than anything else. I can... make deals."

"What? Why would you want to make a deal with me, Cas?"

"I think I know a way to help you."

"You just said you don't have the power."

"I don't. That is why we must make a deal."

Dean frowned. His confusion showed as clear as day. The sun had set a few hours ago, and the moon highlighted his features. He looked heavenly to Castiel, who almost laughed at the irony. What showed on the slightly shorter man's face was a twitch of the lips. Castiel knew Dean's every facial expression, and in return Dean knew that the twitch he saw on the other man's face was a smile. It but the Winchester at ease, Castiel could tell by the slight release of tension in the shoulders.

That was something no one seemed to understand about he and Dean. They did not stare at each other. They did not have "eye-sex", whatever that was. They looked at each other and spoke without speaking. Each twitch, each muscle movement, each and every measured breath was a piece of a conversation. They did not need words because they had a language all their own. They did not need to voice it or experience it through touch like most people had to. They could just see it. Like their own form of sign language that they never really learned but knew anyway. Dean and Castiel stared at each other because they were afraid they might miss something the other had to say.

"What do you want to deal about?" Dean asked, his voice sounding slightly breathy.

"Will you trust me, Dean?"

"Always, Cas, but don't I need to know what we are doing before we use whatever new demon mojo I have?"

"No. I have just enough power left to control the deal."

"Why don't you want me to know?"

"Trust me, Dean. I want you to be happy. I want you to be human again. I want you and Sam to have a-a happily ever after," Castiel said, remembering some of the knowledge bestowed upon him by Metatron.

"Cas, you're scaring me, man."

"I need you to trust me, Dean. You are my family. Do we have a deal?"

Dean looked at Castiel. Castiel could feel his eyes look from the top of his head, down his blue tie, down the trench coat, and down all the way to his shoes. Dean examined him carefully, not sure of what the other man was planning. Castiel let himself enjoy the look.

"Alright, Cas. You have to let me know what this is all about when it's done. That, and you have a deal. You have to tell me."

"It is a deal, Dean."

"So, uh-"

The hunter was cut off by Castiel firmly grasping the sides of his face and pulling him into a passionate kiss. Dean was everything Castiel had dreamed of. He tasted like too much alcohol and pie. He smelled like old leather and whiskey. He felt like sandpaper and velvet all at once. But, beneath it all, there was the demon. The part of Dean that tasted like blood, smelled like sulfur, and felt like a creep up the spine. Castiel ignored it all and kissed Dean, just Dean and not a demon, with all that was left in him. To his surprise, the hunter returned his kiss with equal fervor. Castiel let his mind travel to a place that might let him believe that Dean returned Castiel's feelings. But, that was short lived. The deal was sealed.

Dean cried out in pain as the Mark of Cain seared his flesh. The smell of sulfur and burning skin began to fill the air. Castiel reached out with all that remained of his Grace and grabbed Dean's shoulder over the place he had all those years ago. Castiel began to panic as he realized that it might not work. That he did not have the power left. That he might never have had the power at all.

The jar inside of Castiel shattered. The last bit of power Castiel had escaped into his body, then coursed into Dean's. Everything that was left of him, he gave to the oldest Winchester.

The pain was unbearable. It welled up inside of Castiel and made him scream. Grace pooled inside him, along with darkness. All of a sudden, Dean was over Castiel, holding him.

"Cas-Cas! What did you do? That was part of the deal. Cas! What did you do?" Dean was crying, his tears falling on the angel's face. Castiel realized that, for the first time in a long time, he was crying, too.

"I t-transferred the Mark of Cain …to myself. I used my Grace. I shouldn't have b-been able to do it b-but... I guess it work-ked. The Mark and an angel's ...Grace can never exist t-together, so I think I am d-dying."

"Cas, what? You-"

"Shut up, D-Dean. The little Grace I h-have is... keeping me al-alive. I need to say s-something..."

"What?"

"I love you, Dean Winchester. I d-did it all... for y-you. I l-love you, you assbutt."

There was no blinding flash of light, no grand spread of black-ash wings. Castiel had used the last of his Grace to take the Mark. He died human. He died in Dean's arms.

Dean stared down at the limp figure in shock. He sobbed, but his mind seemed to be detached from the actions of his body. He leaned over the dead man and placed the softest kiss on his lips.

"I love you, too, Cas. I..." Dean couldn't speak through the tears. "Why did you do that, Cas? Why! I-" the hunter broke down again. He knew why. Castiel knew he wanted to die human, normal. He wanted to give Dean his wish. He told Cas that he did not want Sam to suffer without him or because of him. So, as Dean held the empty vessel of the man who would never know he had been loved, Dean realized that the angel had done the one thing he could. Even if that meant giving up everything.

Cas did everything for Dean.

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Go to the next chapter if you want a happily ever after that is slightly cracky to boost your mood. This is technically the end of the oneshot and is meant to be read alone. I just needed to write the next bit to lift my own spirits. Review and fav if you like. A WIP of mine is Save A Horse (Destiel Modern Rodeo AU), and a nothing-but-happy fluff piece of mine that is finished is Pinky Promises (Destiel Growing-Up-Together AU).


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